


Empty

by Belle86



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle86/pseuds/Belle86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the fantasy of the true love of co-pilots proves to be just that, Mako finds the relief to her pain and mourning in someone other than Raleigh Becket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty

She’d always heard the love stories of the drift - the Kaidonovskies, the pilots of Shaolin Rogue, countless others. The deep, soulful bond that spilled over into relationships where the two pilots became of the same heart and soul, both in and out of the jaeger.

And while she had always been practical, part of her had held onto those stories, cradled them close, cherished the fantasy in the back of her mind that she could have that too, when she finally became a pilot.

And it had been so close to coming true - Raleigh Becket, so handsome and gentle and so very perfect as her copilot.

But the rest of the fantasy hadn’t come true in the end. She’d given it a solid try, and Raleigh had seemed pleased, the sweet, gentle lovemaking and the cuddling afterwards full of giggling and kissing and sharing breath that was too hot, too sticky, too close and _why didn’t she want this?_

Why didn’t she want this sweet, kind boy who held her through her nightmares and cooed platitudes to her through her moments of grief? Why did it make her angry when he tried to share her pain, to take it away?

What was so broken inside of her that while part of her wanted him close, the rest of her felt better when she was alone, when she didn’t have to be kind in return to what he offered her?

When she found him flirting with Jennifer, one of Gipsy’s techs who was just as sweet and gentle as Raleigh, the conscious part of her said she should be angry, she should be upset.

But she wasn’t.

She was relieved. The fantasy wasn’t real, it was just that, a silly fantasy she’d carried around, padded in rumor and whispered romantic myth. She could let it go. 

Let Raleigh cradle Jennifer like some delicate porcelain doll, like a baby kitten, weak and trembling. 

She had no use for being cradled.

She’d sat with Tendo and drank his good whiskey, the kind that only the Russians could get, and felt bolder with every sip. When finally he suggested they both go to bed, she agreed and headed back towards her quarters. But once he was out of sight she changed her route to a different corridor.

She knocked on his door once, twice, three times before he answered. He pulled the door open, in sleep clothes but his arm out of it’s sling, finally healed.

She asked to come in as she walked in anyway, hearing him close the door behind her and looking around. His own bottle of whiskey was open on the desk, next to a tumbler that was still mostly full.

He crossed the room to her, asking if everything was alright, and she turned to face him, looking into his eyes that reflected the same grief she knew still shone in hers, that screamed for the same release _make it go away_.

She grabbed him then, by the neck and the front of his worn henley, and pulled him down for a kiss; rough, demanding, searching. He pulled back and regarded her for a moment, looking for any indication that he should push her back and push her out of his room. He found none.

He pulled her back in for more hard, biting kisses, and soon they started pushing their clothing off, throwing it aside, caring only for the rub of heated skin on skin and more, more _more_.

His shirt gone, she’d found hard muscle, battle-honed and unforgiving; when she’d pushed his sleep pants down and off, his cock had slapped back up against his belly, hard and angry red. He hissed into her mouth as she pumped it with her fist and he pushed her shirt up to work her breasts with the same fervor.

They missed the bed entirely and ended up with her back against the cold concrete wall. With both of them fully stripped, she assured him that she was clean and covered as far as contraception, he’d assured her the same and gripped her buttocks to lift her up and against him.

When she hooked her arms around his neck, he lined up and pushed in, hard and unquestioning. She’d been just this side of not quite ready and it hurt, his thick length huge and searing hot inside her. She pulled in a harsh gasp and he yanked his head back to look at her, worried he’d gone too far.

He reached up to lay a callused palm against her cheek and said her name, cautious and _gentle_. She turned her head to suck his thumb into her mouth, biting around the knuckle, “again,” she dug her nails into his scalp as he followed her order, “again.”

He set a hard rhythm, pounding into her and with each thrust, with each meeting of their hips in painful, jolting, perfect, aching pressure, she felt something open inside her at last.

Something deep within her gut that was endlessly twisting and gnawing with grief, with loss, with regret and disappointment, slowly opened with each grunt against her throat and was replaced with...nothing.

Sweet, empty, wonderful nothing. Nothing but the scrape of the concrete against her back and the strain of her thighs as he braced his hands inside them and pushed them flush against the wall, spreading her wide, growling in her ear to _touch herself, make herself come, that’s it, come on_. 

Nothing but the burning heat in her gut as she did as he said and brought herself to screaming climax, vaguely registering him thrusting once, twice more as she clenched around his cock, spilling hot into her with a curse and his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise.

She didn’t know how long it was before she felt him soften fully and slip from her, but a long moment after that she lifted her head and opened her eyes, watching him watch his release drip from her exposed cunt and onto the floor below them, panting, blue eyes fever bright as he held her in place.

She shivered in the chill of the room and it broke him from his reverie. Without asking, he gathered her back into his arms and staggered with them both back to his bunk, laying them down with her to the outside, so she could leave if she wanted. She didn’t.

They settled in for the night, not entwined, not spooned, not taking over each other’s space and breathing each other’s oxygen; just _there_ ; touching just a bit so that they dropped off with the knowledge that they wouldn’t be alone when their demons inevitably came in the night.

Sleep wasn’t the word for what came after for them, but the emptiness that accompanied whatever did was enough.


End file.
